The Lost Heir
by macadoodle1996
Summary: How does one say goodbye when they've only just said hello? A story about a daughter who will not lose her father again, a father who is far too impulsive, and their flying motorcycle.
1. The Bike is Everything

Bailey O'Bailey had never thought she would be living in a house with six Gryffindors, plus their Gryffindor parents. But, hey, lots of things in her life had been unexpected. Her Hogwarts letter, for one. And then the identity of her father, as well as the revelation of her beloved godfather, Uncle Rem, not only being a wizard, but also a werewolf.

But that was in the past. For now, she had to get the Death Eaters off her trail.

Her day had started off fairly normal. Her mum, Tilly O'Bailey, had rushed off to work, leaving Bailey to fend for herself, as well as tend to the sheep on their run-down farm. Once her mother was safely out of the house, her father had fire-called her. (As her father was a convicted felon on the run, it was safe to say that Tilly would not have approved of their father-daughter relationship had she known. Not that the conversation had been particularly deep; her father had merely been checking on the status of his beloved flying motorbike.) After having reassured her father that the bike was perfectly safe and its existence hidden from her mother's knowledge, Bailey had mounted said motorbike and taken off toward Dublin, which was about forty-five minute from her middle-of-nowhere house and home to her best friend.

It wasn't until she was halfway to London that she noticed her tail.

The Death Eaters hounding her should not have been a surprise. After all, she was a Slytherin, and most over the age of fifteen were asked at least once to join up (as all of the House knew that _he_ was back; they merely didn't admit it). Though the identity of Bailey's father was far from common knowledge, she was a very respected and well-liked Slytherin, even having been made Prefect, and she was an extremely talented Potioneer, the very top of her class. Professor Snape had even taken her on as an apprentice. So, she was quite a good candidate for the Dark Mark.

She just didn't want to be.

So, muttering words that would make her mum's hair curl, Bailey took the most convoluted route through the city, using the roads rather than the air. She hoped that any who looked up to see the flying Death Eaters above her were those mainly stumbling out of pubs and too drunk to care any way.

She was nearly half-an-hour late when she arrived to her friend's flat. Or, rather, her friend's older brother, Mikey's flat. Amelia, who had been her best friend since first year, did not have what one would call a stellar relationship with her uppity Pureblooded parents, a problem that many Slytherins seemed to share. So, instead of living in "that creepy, drafty manor" as Amelia had put it, the redhead lived with her brother Mikey, the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor. Bailey's dad, of course, had no idea that she went there on a regular basis.

Glancing both ways to make sure she had lost her less-than-friendly shadows, Bailey rapped on the door, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Mikey to open up.

"Why hello, little leprechaun!" he exclaimed, grinning in a way that would make most girls melt into a puddle of mush on the carpet (Bailey would never confirm whether she was one of those girls). "The other munchkins are in Amy's room waiting for you. You must have grown up in the past year; you're never late!"

"Oh, shut your trap, Mikey, and lemme in," Bailey snapped, anxious to be in a safe house again. Mikey seemed to be slightly offended as he opened the door wider to allow her entrance.

"Good Merlin, why does she have to PMS at the same time as 'Melia," he muttered. In response, Bailey muttered a Wedgie Hex (the Trace didn't work in his house, after all) and carried on her way to the baby pink door that said Amelia on it and walked in.

The inside of the room was a far cry from baby pink. Weird Sisters and Black Magician posters covered the dark purple walls, and a huge canopy bed draped in black occupied the center of the room. But, Bailey only had eyes for the three sitting on the black leather couches across from the door—her best friends, Amelia Blackwood, Draco Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini.

Amelia immediately ran over to Bailey and hugged her, causing much of Bailey's view of the room to be obstructed by a huge mass of red, curly hair. Behind her, Draco looked rather bored, though Bailey knew that he was pleased to see her. _No new bruises, thank Merlin_, she thought to herself as she studied her pale friend. Blaise, who was sitting next to Draco, looked torn between getting up and hugging her excitedly like Amelia was or playing it cool. Draco kept looking at him and smirking every time the darker boy seemed about to get up, so it looked as if "playing it cool" was winning.

"What took you so long?" Amelia finally exclaimed as she pulled away from Bailey. "Did that blasted motorbike crash?"

"No, of course not," Bailey exclaimed, putting a hand over her heart dramatically. "Don't talk about her that way, you'll hurt her feelings!"

Amelia just rolled her eyes and motioned for Bailey to sit down before continuing her story. She promptly squeezed Draco out of his seat to spread her feet out over the couch that Blaise was sitting on, her feet in his lap.

"Did you have some sheep emergency?" Draco drawled, obviously perturbed with having lost his seat. "Did you have to fight off wolves or maybe a lion with your bare hands?" Bailey often wondered how on earth it was possible for them to be related.

"No, Draco," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"And even if that were it, that sure beats your peacocks biting you story that you whip out on a moment's notice," Blaise quipped. Draco nervously fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt, as if to make sure his arms were completely covered.

"What _did_ keep you?" Amelia said, trying to keep the group on track as she usually did at school. She was such a little Ravenclaw at times.

Bailey grabbed a chocolate biscuit off of Amelia's ottoman before answering. "Some o' _them_ were following me," she said.

It was as if a ghost had passed through the room and made it drop about ten degrees in temperature. Blaise gaped at her, mouth hanging wide open, while Amelia went paler than any ginger usually did, her freckles standing out spectacularly. Draco began to fidget with his shirt again and was, as usual, the first to break the silence.

"But you're a Mudblood."

Bailey fixed him with a glare. "That's not true, and you know it," she hissed.

"We may know it," he replied, gesturing to the other two. "But, to the Death Eaters, you may as well be Granger."

"Also not true," Amelia said. "After third year and it becoming known that Lupin is you godfather, anyone with half a brain would know that she is of Wizarding lineage."

"You're giving an awful lot of credit to the Death Eaters, Amelia," Blaise said. "I wouldn't imagine most of them having even close to half a brain, not if they're choosing _him_ again, even after he was beaten by a two year old."

"Dangerous words, mate," Draco warned darkly. "Just as it's dangerous to keep your father's identity hidden anymore, Bails. You really ought to claim your heritage. It's not safe not to, anymore."

Before Bailey could tell Draco that _he_ had less than half-a-brain, Bailey beat her to the punch.

"You're an idiot, Draco Malfoy," she said. "The Dark Lord has, on occasion, taken in a Muggleborn, so long as they are talented, which Bailey obviously _is_, since Snape took her on. And you doubly stupid to think that the Ministry would be very kind to the daughter of mass-murderer, Sirius Black."

And there was the rub. Bailey O'Bailey was not in fact Bailey O'Bailey after all. As she had learned in her third year at Hogwarts, Bailey's actual was Minerva Bailey Ann Black, daughter of one of the Wizarding World's most infamous, yet innocent, convicts, Sirius Black, and heiress to the enormous Black family fortune. However, it was not safe for the rest of the world to know about her father or hi innocence yet, nor the fact that Bailey could easily be considered a "Daddy's Girl". The only people who had been let in on the secret were her godfather, Remus Lupin, and her three best friends, and, of course, her father himself. Not even her mother, with whom Bailey was very close to, knew that her ex-husband was not, in fact, guilty of betraying their famous godson's parents' trust all those years ago. And said godson had no clue that he had a godsister.

Yippee. Secrets.

Blaise interrupted her thoughts. "Do they know where you live, Bailey?" he asked in a soft voice. Both Draco and Amelia looked at her, seeming to both be disturbed by such a possibility.

Bailey shrugged. "Dunno. My luck…"

"So much for the luck of the Irish," Blaise grinned, already laughing at their old joke.  
"So much for the hot Italian," she shot back.

"Oi! That was below the belt!"

Draco, Amelia, and Bailey burst out in raucous peals of laughter, while Blaise sat in petulant silence, though Bailey could have sworn that she saw the corners of his mouth twitching every so often. After they had laughed long enough to make their sides hurt, Amelia turned to Bailey, suddenly looking very serious.

"You know that you can't stay there if they know where you live," she said. "It's not as if it's even a magical home—you'll have no protection if they decide to have a 'fun night'. And before you say anything, even with as good as you are a not-even-fifth-year could not hope to stand up to a bunch of Death Eaters."

"But where would I go?" Bailey said. "Where would Mum go? That is more than just our home, Lia, it's our livelihood."

"You could move to Zabini Manor," Blaise said almost immediately. "We have plenty of room for some sheep. I mean, we've already got about twenty different breeds of horse, a couple of sheep wouldn't be a problem."

"Yeah, but Bailey would be married to you as soon as it comes out that she's the heiress to the Black fortune," Amelia scoffed. The tips of Blaise's ears turned red and he began studying the floor intently. Bailey, much to her dismay, felt her own cheeks coloring.

"What about Malfoy Manor?" Draco said.

Amelia sighed. "Dray, as it is very possible that your father was one of those chasing Bailey today, that would not be the wisest course of action. You should probably be thinking of moving in with one of us if you don't want to be entrenched too deeply into this war."

Everyone was silent again at that word. War was such an ugly word, after all. But, they all knew it was coming, from the time that the Death Eaters had come out to play at the Quidditch World Cup. The Slytherins had known to watch for the signs of the Dar Lord's rising, while all the other houses were squabbling over Dumbledore's "surprise" at the beginning of last year.

Some surprise, Bailey thought scornfully, thinking of the boy who had been killed only a month prior. Even though he was only a Hufflepuff (albeit a cute one), Diggory's death had shaken even the most hardened of Slytherins.

"On that morbid note," Bailey said, standing up. "I should probably call me Da."

"But wouldn't Mikey notice if you used his fireplace to call a known mass-murderer?" Blaise asked. Bailey only just managed not to roll her eyes.

"Yes, he would, dumbarse," she replied, a tad more viciously than she mean to. "I've got another way."

Bailey walked into Amelia's lavish bathroom, closing the door behind her. While her friends knew her secret, and had for quite some time, her father did not know that they knew, so she had to keep up the pretense of secrecy. She pulled a small, compact mirror from her purse. The silver disk had been a present from her father the very first time that she met him. He, apparently, had a larger, wall-sized mirror to match hers.

"Da?" she called into the mirror. "Da, are you there?"

After a few moments, her father's face swam into view. He frowned when he saw her worried face.

"You wrecked the bike, didn't you?" he asked immediately. Bailey rolled her eyes.

"Not everything is about the bike, Da," she grumbled. He put a hand over his heart, feigning shock.

"Not everything is about the bike!" he exclaimed. "Minnie, you can't talk about her like that! Her feelings are very sensitive!"

Bailey bit back a smirk, not wanting her dad to realize that she had said something along the same lines just fifteen minutes earlier. "Da, would you please be serious?"

"But I am Sir—"

"DA!"

"Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "What's wrong?"

Bailey quickly launched into her story before her dad could be sidetracked again. Her father suddenly became very serious (with an 'e'); in fact, he was frowning in worry. She had never seen him act that way before. Of course, she had only known him for about a year and a half, and had not actually physically seen him very much, but something about his behavior was just inherently _wrong_. Her dad was a marauder, a jokester, not… worried. It scared her.

"Do they know where you and your Mum's house is?" he asked, his voice catching a little at the mention of her Mum. Bailey shrugged, just as she had when Blaise had asked.

"Not sure," she said. "I doubt that it's too hard to find. It's not as if we are purposely trying to stay hidden, or anything. We just live out in the middle of nowhere."

That didn't seem to alleviate his worries.

"What about now?" he continued. "Do they know where you are now?"

"No, I managed to lose them once I got to Dublin. The bike handles very well, even on the ground," she said. "And I'm at a Wizard's house, my friend's brother's flat. So they shouldn't be able to find me, right?"

"Unless your friend _is_ a Dea—"

Her father cut himself off when he noticed her glare. The fact that she was a very proud Slytherin, with many friends and plenty of influence within the House, had always been somewhat of a sore spot with the only Gryffindor on the Black family tree. He had, of course, expected that she would follow in his red and gold footsteps.

"Amelia's most definitely _not_ a Death Eater, Da. For starters, very few witches actually get the Mark, besides the fact that just because you're a Slytherin doesn't mean—"

"—that you're a Death Eater, just as being a Gryffindor doesn't make you a hero for the Light side," her father finished, his eyes darkening. "I know, Minerva. I learned that the hard way."

Bailey frowned, unknowingly making herself look even more like her father in that moment. Both had the same warm grey eyes, the same high aristocratic cheekbones, the same crease between their eyebrows when they frowned. The only difference in appearance was Bailey's softer face, and slightly lighter hair. It really was a wonder that no one had figured out that she was a black.

"So, what do I do now?" she asked after a few moments. Her dad thought for a moment.

"I'll get Moony to come and get you and bring you back to Headquarters. You can stay here with me for the rest of the summer. But, until he gets there, _stay put_."

Bailey did her best to stifle the warm feeling growing in her stomach at the thought of actually _living_ with her father. Surely, it was too good to be true, not with all the circumstances that would so easily prevent it. But, she had to admit, Sirius Black had never looked so _serious_ about something before.

"What about Mum?" she asked. "As far as she knows, you're still a mass murderer on the run and Tilly would sooner throw out _all_ of her chocolate than let me live with you. And even if that wasn't the case, if it's not safe for me to live there, then it surely isn't for her."

The corner of his mouth twitched, though his eyes remained sad as he sighed. "I don't know right now. First things, let's get you here and safe, and then we'll worry about Tilly, okay?"

Bailey frowned, thinking of her rather overprotective mother. "Mum won't like being the last to know. At all," she warned her father. "She'll probably… well, it won't be pretty, Da."

"I'm doing the best I can, Minerva!" her dad finally snapped. At her shocked expression, for he had never raised his voice at her, though she had him several times, the fugitive slumped. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to snap at you, darling. Just tell me where you are, exactly, and I'll send Moony out to get you, alright?"

Bailey nodded. "I'm at Mikey Blackwood's house.

Her dad's eyes went wide as saucers. "This generation's _me_? Minerva Bailey Ann—"

"Bye Da!" she said quickly, cutting him off. "See ya in a few!"

Bailey closed the compact quickly before her dad could get another word in. _That was close._


	2. Behind Enemy Lines

**A/N-So, usually I won't update this often, but I have a bunch prewritten in a notebook and a snow day besides. Most of the time I will try and update once a week, so yeah. Hope y'all enjoy! And review!**

Not even fifteen minutes after Bailey finished talking with her dad, a buzzer rang through the flat. The four friends, who had begun a rather rowdy tournament of Wizard's Chess, stopped their game to listen carefully as Mikey answered the door.

"Who're you?" Mikey said, sounding as if he had a mouth full of food. It was very likely that he did. "Why're you here?"

"I've come to pick up Bailey/"

There was a pause. Likely so that Mikey could swallow.

"I think I'd prefer not to let my baby sister's friend go off with a complete and total stranger. Even I'm not that irresponsible."

"That or he's scared of what your mum would do to him," Amelia muttered.

"That's very good to hear, though you needn't worry. I am Bailey's godfath—"

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Your father sent Professor _Lupin_?" He said Lupin like one would say the name of a particularly disgusting disease. Bailey glared at her friend/cousin.

"You already knew that he was my godfather," Bailey replied before making one final, suicidal move on the board against Blaise, wincing at the sound of the the piece being broken into many tiny pieces as she stood to go and rescue her poor Uncle Rem.

"Moony!" she exclaimed happily as she opened the door into Mikey's living room. "Why'd Mum send you? She knows I can get home by meself, I've got the bike."

"I came on my own," he said, playing along with the charade. "There's a pretty big sale at Flourish and Blotts, so I thought we could make a day out of it. Haven't hung out much recently, after all."

"Sounds great!" Bailey replied, still smiling. "Lemme just say bye to me friends, okay?"

She turned back into Amelia's room for a second. Blaise and Amelia were playing chess now

"We still on for the Weird Sisters concert next week?" she asked.

"What do you think? I spent a fortune on those tickets. I even got VIP passes," Draco drawled. Bailey rolled her eyes.

"Your daddy spent a fortune, you mean," she teased. "I'll see you all then, I guess."

"Yup," Amelia said, popping the 'p'. She didn't look up from the chessboard. "Adieu."

Bailey lingered in the doorway a moment more until Blaise looked up from the board and grinned at her. There was a strange fluttering in her stomach as he winked playfully at her.

"Have fun at your Dad's," he said, still smiling. Bailey smiled back at him, cheeks warmer than they ought to be, and waved at him before bouncing back to her godfather's side.

"Thanks for the food, Mikey," she said over her shoulder as Uncle Rem guided her out. Mikey nodded before wandering back to his set of weights and beginning to lifted the biggest dumbbell he had (which Bailey doubted was much more than fifteen pounds; Mikey liked his featherweight charms, after all). As soon as Uncle Rem closed the door behind them, he pulled out a wrinkled brochure from his robe pocket.

"Take this," he told her.

_A portkey,_ she thought, wrinkling her nose a bit. She had only used a portkey once in her life, when she had gone to the Quidditch World Cup with Mikey and Amelia the year before, and she had absolutely hated it. She much preferred flying, driving, Flooing, or even walking over the portkey.

"We coulda just taken the Floo," she grumbled to her godfather. "Mikey wouldn't of cared, and it would save your shoes from being thrown up on."

Uncle Rem chuckled. "The Floo wouldn't have worked. And besides, a bit of vomit might make these shoes look better," he said.

"But Da calls me on the Floo all the time!" she said.

"I'll explain once we get to Headquarters," he said dismissively. "Now grab the portkey. I'm already ten minutes late to the meeting; your Dad may have already killed Professor Snape."

"Meeting? Professor Snape? What are you on about?" Bailey said, confused. "And what about Dad's bike? He'll kill someone if we just leave it sitting in the middle of Dublin. Probably me."

"Already taken care of," he said, patting his pocket, which had a small, bike-shaped bulge in it. "Now let's _go_, Bailey Ann."

"Alrigh', alrigh'. No need to get testy, now," she said as she grabbed the program.

There was a hard yank behind her belly button ad she was thrown into the air, spinning and spinning and spinning until she was sure that she would be sick if she was spinning for a moment longer. Finally, she thumped onto hard concrete, stumbling and only catching her footing by grabbing onto Uncle Rem. He grinned at her, looking like he was enjoying her embarrassment far too much.

"Lost your footing a bit, Bails?" he quipped.

She made a very rude gesture at him.

He shook his finger at her. "Now, now, Bailey, you wouldn't want me telling your father about your being friends with Draco Malfoy, now would you?" he said warningly.

"You wouldn't," she said in a horrified voice.

He merely chuckled at her and reached inside his robe pocket once again. This time, he pulled out a small piece of parchment, rolled up into a tiny tube. He unrolled it to reveal unfamiliar slanted handwriting.

"Read that and memorize it," he said, growing serious (with an 'e') once more. Bailey took it from him and read:

_The location for the Headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix is at _

_ 12 Grimmauld Place._

When Bailey looked up from the parchment to begin asking questions, the parchment had already crumbled away into the wind. Uncle Rem seemed to realize what she was about to ask and just pointed in front of them to the small space between numbers 11 and 13. Only, now that space was occupied by number 12, somehow larger than all the other houses. Bailey gasped.

"But… how… what?" she stuttered, turning to her godfather for some sort of explanation.

He winked at her. "Magic," was all he said, eyes twinkling merrily. "Now, go on, I've got a meeting to get to. And you need to call your Mum. Just tell her that you're with me, and that it may be too dangerous to stay at Fleecewood any more, and I'll talk to her later."

"Okay, but what meeting?"

Uncle Rem merely guided her through the door into a narrow hallway where Bailey nearly tripped over what looked to be a troll leg umbrella stand. Her father had such taste. Uncle Rem caught her and held her steady.

"Be careful," he said, "you don't want to wake your grandmother."

"My grand—"

"Straight upstairs, you should find where the other kids are staying. And keep away from Kreacher, he doesn't seem to like much of anyone."

"What other kids? And what in the world is a 'Kreacher'?" she asked, bewildered.

But, Uncle Rem had already hurried down the hallway into another room. Bailey was just able to catch a glimpse of her father through the doorway. A thrill rushed through her.

"…recruiting younger and younger!" he was saying, gesticulating wildly, when he looked up at her and smiled, excitement spreading on his face. Bailey smiled back happily and began to walk towards the door, whatever meeting was going on in there be damned, when another dark figure stepped in the way. Bailey recognized her Head of House and new Potions Mentor immediately.

"I can assure you, Black, that my Slyth—"

Bailey wasn't able to hear any more after that because the professor had rather forcefully shut the door. She sighed and figured that she may as well head on upstairs to find out who and where these "other kids" were and find out if she needed to kill someone.

She did.

The kids in question were all gathered around the banister, and by the near constipated looks they had, were listening to the meeting. Bailey nearly groaned aloud, for she easily recognized Potter and co, along with a few extra redheads. How Bailey hadn't realized immediately who these "other kids" would be, she didn't know, especially considering that her father's godson was the famous Boy-Who-Mouth-Breathed.

Granger looked up as Bailey climbed the last stair, holding a piece of flesh-colored string to her ear. She looked very dignified with her mouth hanging open as several emotions—confusion, fear, anger, disbelief—flitted across her face, before she finally settled on being, quite simply, pissed off.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Granger demanded, backing away from the banister. "How did you even get here?"

The other Gryffindors looked up, seeming to be equally angry about Bailey's sudden presence. She couldn't say that she was too happy to be there herself. She grasped her wand in her robe pocket as soon as she saw Potter going for his. If she ended up having to defend herself against these idiots, she would not be able to be held accountable for her actions.

Bailey leaned against the wall, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, you know," she said, waving a hand, "I walked up the front steps, opened the front door, followed the trail of decapitated elf heads to finally reach the lions' den," she said sarcastically. The Weasley twins seemed to be about to laugh until their little sister poked them hard in the sides.

"Get out of here," Potter snarled, actually pulling his wand. He seemed to get touchier and touchier as the years went on. "You have absolutely no right to be her, O'Bailey."

"Who says that you do, then, Potter?" she sneered at him, restraining herself from drawing her own wand just yet. "This is the House of Black, right?" she said, pointing at the huge crest behind them that matched her bracelet. His nose flared in anger, but before he could say anything more, the twins jumped in to rescue (sort of) the tense situation.

"The meeting's over," one of them said. Bailey had never bothered to learn who was who. It was all the same in the never-ending Slytherin-Gryffindor prank war, after all. "Let's see what the adults make of the ickle Snakey being here."

"What bleeding meeting?" Bailey exclaimed in a rather unhinged voice. She was really getting tired of none of her questions being answered, though it seemed everyone else knew what was going on. The Gryffindors, of course, ignored her.

Typical.

"Come with us," Potter growled as he grabbed hold of her arm. She yanked it away from him.

"What makes you think that I am going anywhere with you?" she scowled. The twins exchanged meaningful glances, and then as one trained their wands on her.

"Immobilus corpus!" they said, and her limbs froze together, nearly causing her to topple forward. The twins each grabbed an awkward-angled arm and began to frog-walk her down the stairs.

"Stop it!" she shouted. "Stop it right now! Lemme go, Weasels!"

They ignored her.

_Bloody typical_.

And, of course, because Bailey had the worst luck in the world, the first person to see her in so undignified a manner was not her father, or even Uncle Rem. No, of all the people that wanted to be out of that meeting first, it was Professor Snape that actually did it. He rose an eyebrow at her predicament, and she flushed bright red.

"Weasleys, let my student out of your hex and if I catch you doing such an idiotic thing while you're at school, I'll give you a month's detention, on top of that that you have left over from last year," he drawled. The twins immediately did as he asked, saluting him in the process. Of course, her sudden release from the spell caused Bailey to lose her balance and nearly tumble into her Professor.

"Sorry, sir," she said, redder than she had ever been in her life.

"Have you done your supplemental assignment yet? Did you encounter any problems?" he asked, ignoring her embarrassment altogether. It was for exactly that sort of thing that Professor Snape was Bailey's favorite teacher.

Before Bailey could get a word out one way or another, Granger snorted in derision. "O'Bailey is doing remedial potions work? How pathetic!" she exclaimed in near glee.

Bailey scowled at the annoying girl. "No, Granger. I have been taken on as an apprentice by Professor Snape this year, so I will be doing advanced Potions work. You may even have a chance to be top of the class with me gone, Granger. Congratulations."

Granger gaped at her. "But… you can't… have to be a NEWT at least…"

"Granger, if you would take your gaping elsewhere, I do need to speak to my apprentice," Professor Snape said in a long-suffering voice. "Now, Ms. Black, f you would while you're here, practice a few of the potions in the second chapter of your book while _under supervision_. Preferably not your father's. I wish to start with chapter three when school begins."

"Yes sir, though could I move on to chapter three?" she asked in a respectful voice.

"You believe you will be able to master chapter two so quickly?" he asked, somewhat surprised. Or, at least, somewhat surprised for Snape.

"Well, I've already done most of them in chapter two," Bailey said unthinkingly. At Professor Snape's raised eyebrow to her virtual admission of trying new potions without a wizard supervising, she added, "Michael Blackwood was with me."

Professor Snape looked as though he would roll his eyes if it were'nt so beneath him. "Very well, send me samples of your work every week."

"Yes sir."

With that, he swept from the house, black robes billowing.

Granger looked vaguely shocked at the interaction, while Ron Weasley seemed to be confused. Well, at least more confused as usual.

"Why did he call you Ms. Black?" Ron Weasley said, scratching his head. Bailey figure he would not be out of place in the ape exhibit at the zoo. "Doesn't he know your name?"

Before Bailey could comment on his stupidity, there was suddenly a very loud voice calling her name.

"Minnie!"

Bailey smiled and turned toward her father, who was already running toward her, like a dog excited to greet its master.

"Daddy!" she shouted back and ran toward him. Father and daughter collided and he was hugging her and spinning around and she laughed and laughed, his bark-like laughter joining the general cacophony of the Black reunion. She didn't even care that a gaggle of Gryffindorks were watching with slightly open mouths. Luckily, Snape had already left so he wasn't a witness as well.

_Safe, safe, safe,_ she thought as she breathed in that old, familiar scent of dog fur and motor oil.

After several moment of still swinging her around, her dad set her down again, though he didn't let her go. He seemed to be having a hard time realizing that she was actually there, in the flesh, and not just an image in his mirror. She didn't mind in the least. Bailey could hardly believe it herself.

Growing up, Bailey had not known anything about her father (besides a few edited Marauder tales that Uncle Rem had told her). That had changed when she was thirteen and Uncle Rem had become a professor at Hogwarts. Then, it had been Amelia to figure out Bailey's parentage, mainly because of the Black family crest on her white gold charm bracelet. That bracelet had been her only connection to her father back then.

She hadn't actually met him and learned of his innocence until Halloween that year, when she had gone to Hogsmeade for the first (legitimate) time. Then, he had introduced himself (read: kidnapped her) as her father and told her the story of how he had been framed for murder. From that day forward, she had done her best to find Peter Pettigrew, the real murderer, and clear her dad's name, and ultimately get him and her mother back together.

It had yet to actually work.

All of the Gryffindors were staring at openly at Bailey and Sirius's little display. Potter, especially, seemed shocked.

"You have… a daughter," he said. Bailey decided that it would not be the best time to say "well, duh!", however much she wanted to.

She didn't keep her mouth shut though. "I thought everyone had heard of the infamous lost Black heir," she said dramatically.

"No…."

"I've read about it," Granger said thoughtfully. "But I never would have guessed…"

"If you say one word about me being a Slytherin, Granger, I swear to Merlin that I'll slip something unpleasant into your drink."

"Minerva," her dad said in warning tone.

"Sure she's not Snape's?" Ron Weasley muttered to Granger.

Bailey scowled at the redhead before saying, "Sorry, Da. Now could you please explain what sort of cloak and dagger operation you're running out of your childhood home?"

"What do you mean?" her Dad replied.

"What meeting were you just in? Why are there so many people here? Why was Professor Snape here?"

"Well, that last one is certainly no by choice, I assure you," he joked. "But, I am not the one running this. It's Dumbledore's organization, the Ord—"

"You can't possibly mean to tell her about the Order, Sirius!" Potter exclaimed, pointing at her. "That would be pure madness! She's a Slytherin! She's the enemy!"

"Yes, I am, Harry," Sirius said slowly. "She is my daughter, and if you would kindly not refer to her as 'the enemy'."

"But, Sirius—"

"No, Harry, she is my daughter and I expect you to treat her as such!" Sirius finally snapped. From the look on Potter's face, he was as surprised as she at her father's short temper today. He must have been really worried about the Death Eaters following her. "Now, how about we head to the parlor to finish this discussion, eh?" When all the Weasleys plus Granger began to move forward to go with them, her dad added, "Just Harry, Bailey, and me need to discuss this. I'm sure he'll tell you all later."

The Weasleys and Granger looked slightly mutinous, but then Granger's ridiculous-looking cat came barreling through the hall, chasing the world's tiniest owl and they were distracted by chasing the warring animals. Her dad had already headed into the parlor, leaving Potter and Bailey to glare at each other in the hallway.

"Ladies first," he said in an obviously sarcastic voice, motioning for her to go forward.

"Then by all means," she replied, moving out of his way. He scowled at her as she smirked (trademarked Draco Malfoy).

"Are you two going to spend all day out there flirting with each other, because I have things to do!" came her dad's voice. Both turned bright red and scrambled for the door, not caring what the other one was doing. Her dad stood there laughing heartily at them.

For as much as Bailey adored her father, she really just hated him sometimes.


	3. One Needed Talk and Two Not So Much

**A/N- Just so you know, Bailey is generally a nice, sweet girl, but she is an only child, and unused to having to share, especially when it comes to sharing one of her parents. So, in this chapter, she is not particularly lovable, especially not to Harry, but in later chapters her inner (and outer) Slytherin will be far more subtle. Thanks to everyone who has read so far, but I'd really love to know what y'all think, so if you could leave a teeny tiny review*? Please?**

***Big reviews fine, too.**

Bailey scurried to take the seat closest to her dad, leaving Potter to sit on the couch opposite them, still scowling slightly. Her dad seemed rather amused by their antics.

"Bailey, this is my godson, Harry," he said in far too jovial a tone as he looked from her to Potter and back again. "And Harry, this is my daughter, Minerva—"

"Da," Bailey growled, glaring at him.

"Oh, sorry, she likes to go by Bailey. So, Harry, this is my daughter Bailey," Sirius continued, smiling like a loon. "Now, shake each other's hand."

Bailey got the ridiculous image of a little girl holding up her Barbie and Ken dolls and telling them "Now, _kiss_". She shook the rather disturbing image from her brain.

"Da!" she snapped again, not wishing to be comparable to a plastic doll.

"Yes, I suppose you two would already know each other, considering you are rivals at school or some business like that," her dad said, leaning back and putting his arm behind his head. She smacked him in the stomach.

"Da, can you please just tell me what I need to know," she snapped. "I still need to call Mum and tell her what's going on before she gets home and goes insane."

"All right… where to start… where to start…" her dad said, rubbing his hands together.

"How about with her," Harry said, pointing at Bailey. "I didn't even know that you had a wife…"

"Ex-wife," Bailey muttered automatically.

"Ex-wife, much less a daughter my age!"

"Actually, I'm a bit older than you, Potter."

"Oh, who cares?" Potter growled, rolling his eyes. "Now, would you please start explaining, Sirius."

Her dad cleared his throat. "Well you see Harry, when a man loves a woman very much—"

Bailey elbowed her dad, willing her face not to go bright red. He sighed, as if Bailey was taking all the fun out of life or something. Most likely, that's exactly what was going through his head.

"Bailey's mum and I met at a pub that your mum liked to drag your Dad and I to whenever we were in Dublin. She drug us around to tons of places to try and find me a girl, and we finally found her there," he said, a note of wistfulness in his tone. "So we got married, had a kid, Minnie, and then you came along, Harry, and then your parents died and I went after Wormtail, she sent the papers to me while I was _there_… even if she knew the complete truth, I'd still be way beyond the dog house in Tilly's book. "

Feeling a tad uncomfortable at her dad seeming so sad, Bailey decided to finish the story for him. "So I did know who was growing up, blah, blah, blah, found out everything in third year, yada, yada, vowed to make some very special rat poison… Can we stop with the testimonials and just get to the point?"

"Ah, right," her dad said a little imperiously. "The point is you will be staying at Order Headquarters until it is time for you to go back to school for your own safety."

"And the Order is…?"

"Sirius," Harry began in warning voice. "I realize she's your daughter and all, but she's also a Slytherin. And a rather powerful, and popular, one at that. I know that she pals around with Malfoy and a bunch of other Death Eaters' kids. Is it really a good idea to tell her about the Order?"

"I could just as easily say that you're an unpopular Gryffindork, unhappy that he didn't get his first pick for the Yule Ball, just like Peter Pettigrew," Bailey sneered, unwilling to even try being civil to him after he had insinuated that she was a Death Eater to her father. "As you're obviously too stupid to figure this out, Potter, I'm here because it seems that the Death Eaters want to recruit me, but I don't particularly want to kill Muggles, seeing as, you know, me Mum _is_ one. Now shut up before I make you."

"Oh, I'd like to see you try," Potter replied, beginning to stand up. She did the same, reaching for her wand.

"Alright, children, settle down," her dad said in his most patronizing voice. "Merlin, but were me and Prongs wrong about you two getting married one day!" he exclaimed.

Both glared at him, but did sit back down.

"So, down to business," he said, clapping his hands together. "The Order, Minnie, is an organization founded by Dumbledore to fight Voldemort," Bailey winced at the name, "and this is Headquarters. Or, technically, our ancestral home, or some rubbish like that, but I volunteered it, since I can't seem to do much else," he added, frowning.

Bailey nodded, ignoring her father's brief moment of self-pity. She could have easily guessed as much herself. "Anything else you can tell me, Da?"

He shook his head. "That's the most non-members can know."

"And I assume you have to be seventeen to join," she continued, noting Potter's sour look.

"One time I ask for this famous thing to work in my favor," she heard him muttering, but decided to ignore it.

Her dad, however, had given her a sharp look. "Don't even think about it, Minnie," he warned. "I want you to stay _out_ of this war as much as possible, do you got it?"

"Does he have to 'stay out'?" she said immediately, pointing at Potter. Her dad winced.

"It doesn't matter," he said, as Potter smirked in triumph at her. "_You_ are staying out."

Bailey shrugged. She was a Slytherin, after all; she didn't necessarily feel a burning desire to become a front line hero. She had other things to do, after all. However, if she did suddenly have the desire to be blown to bits by a Death Eater, she could easily get around her dad's wishes. After all, she had managed to get around the Trace for years to at least experiment with her Potions. How else could she have gotten to the top of the class?

"So, I guess I'll be living for the next month and a half," she said after just long enough silence to make her dad go crazy with the thought of her somehow joining up. "Where's my room so that I can call Mum?"

"Ah, that's another thing," he said, fidgeting with his collar. She had noticed that he tended to do that whenever he was faced with something uncomfortable. "There's only so many livable rooms here, you see, so you'll have to share with Hermione and Ginny."

Bailey grit her teeth, just barely restraining herself from shouting "Are you bloody insane?" in front of Potter. After all, she had to maintain Slytherin decorum, even outside of school. Even after being told that she would have to spend her summer holiday bunking with her biggest rival at school. (She didn't know much about the youngest Weasley, but she figured the girl wouldn't be any less annoying than her brothers.)

"Fine," she ground out. "But that means you get to talk to Mum if and when she comes."

Her father, the brave Gryffindor, went paler than a Malfoy. From talking to Uncle Rem, Bailey knew that he hadn't seen his ex-wife since she had shown up to Azkaban to force him to sign their divorce papers after sending them to the prison five times. Bailey had always contended that he needed to be the one to explain his innocence to Tilly, but Sirius had always disagreed, stating that Bailey didn't need more than one convicted killer as a parent.

But, looking as though he was signing his own death warrant, her dad nodded anyway.

Bailey stood up, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles in her tight motorcycle pants. "So, where's a fireplace to call Mum?"

"Wait, I thought you said your mum was a Muggle," Potter said. "How do you have a Floo connection?"

Deciding to give into her evil side, Bailey winked and said, "Favor from Lucius Malfoy. Such a kind soul, no?"

"That's not true, Harry, Dumbledore set it up for us," Sirius said quickly before his godson completely went off the deep end. "And the fireplace is in the kitchen. Try to not scare any more of the others, would you? It was hard enough for me to get you here."

Bailey grinned deviously. "I'll do my best."

She was far from smiling when she finally called her mother, however. Her mother wasn't doing too much smiling herself.

"No, yeh can' stay over at yer friend's house, yeh need to come on home," her mother said immediately, looking tired and a bit frustrated. "We're headed to yer gran'parents fer the weekend and on top of that yeh didn' even clean the kitchen like I specifically asked yeh—"

"Mum, I'm not calling to stay over at Amelia's," Bailey said before her mother could delve into another rant about her chores and lack of doing them properly. If only she could do more magic at home… "I'm not even over there anymore."

Her mum's eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. "Oh, an' jus' where are yeh then, Bailey Ann?" she said lightly, though she was wearing a deep frown. Bailey sighed, knowing this would not be pretty.

"Mum, don't freak out, but—"

_"Where are yeh, Bailey Ann?"_

"I had Uncle Rem come and get me from Amelia's," she said, trying to delay the inevitable. "There were Death Eaters following me once I got to Berlin, but I shook them off."

Her mum had gone even paler than her dad had earlier. "You mean those creepy blokes with the green and silver snake crests? I've heard abou' them once or twice."

Bailey rolled her eyes. Whenever her mu had "heard about something once" her dad had usually been the one to tell her about it while they had been together. Only he could have made Tilly believe that all Slytherins were as bad as Death Eaters.

"No Mum, what you're talking about is called _Slytherins_," Bailey replied in a long-suffering voice. "_I'm_ one of those."

"Oh. Then wha' are these Eaters?"

"They're the tossers who…" Bailey trailed off, unsure of how to describe the Death Eaters without driving her mother into full hysterics. "Remember when Uncle Rem came over to explain that You-Know-Who is back at the beginning of the summer?"

Wrong thing to say.

Her mum's eyes widened. "Oh my god, _he_ wasn' after yeh, was he?"

"No, no!" Bailey said quickly to try and calm her mother down. "Of course he wasn't after me! He has way better things to do with his time! It was just a few of his… minions?… yeah, minions followin' me!"

That didn't seem to do much better than the "You-Know-Who" reference, for her mother seemed to be almost hyperventilating now.

"Why were they followin' yeh?" she practically yelled, reaching pitches that Bailey had previously thought only dogs could hear. "Yer jus' a kid! What 'ave yeh been gettin' up to?"

"Listen, Mum, just calm do—"

_ "Don't tell me to calm down!"_

"Listen, I'm gonna get off, and have Uncle Rem explain everything to you," she said quickly. "Yeah, Uncle Rem. That's good."

_"Bailey Ann don' yeh dare leave this fireplace until yeh've fully explained yer—"_

Bailey left the fireplace.

"UNCLE REM!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. It was one of those yells that she had perfected as a young child, guaranteed to send her beloved godfather running to her side whenever she used it. Sure enough, he came barreling down the stairs, his somewhat ratty robes billowing behind him.

"What? Is something wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just your turn to deal with Mum's panic attack," she said in a jovial voice, beginning to back up the stairs.

"Bails, tell me you didn't."

"I figured you could handle it way better than me," she said, still backing away.

"Bailey, I am not doing your dirty work for you," Uncle Rem said in a serious tone.

"What's that?" Bailey said, leaning her ear towards the stairs. "A potions emergency only I can fix. Well, I better hop to then! Don't let her forget to grab my trunk!"

"Bailey, don't do this to me aga—"

"Ooh, and my favorite concert outfit! She'll know the one!"

"Bailey A—"

"Thanks, Uncle Rem!"

And with that, she positively bolted up the stairs. It was so much fun to be her sometimes.

Bailey soon discovered that she did not much care for her 'ancestral home'. And it wasn't just because of the fact that at that particular time it had a nasty infestation of Gryffindors. It was also far too dark and dreary. Her family had obviously never realized that there was a whole color palette outside of the dark and dank, nor that proper décor did not consist of plenty of family crests and decapitated elf heads. But, the worst was the fact that it was a bloody labrynth. It had taken Bailey at least half a term to learn her way around Hogwarts, but she was sure that it would take even longer here, despite Grimmauld Place being quite a bit smaller.

"I sure hope that the architect for this place was fired," she muttered to herself as she tried to find some rhyme or reason to the place.

"Lost, O' Bailey?"

She jumped to see Potter leaning casually against the doorpost to his room. She could just barely see the mess that she was sure two teenage boys had made in there, and was glad that she could only see that bit. Trying to play it cool, she cocked a hip and put her fist on it.

"And what would make you think that, Potter?"

"Because it takes at least a week to learn the ends and outs of this place, and you've been here for less than two hours," he replied, shrugging. "Unless you've actually been here before."

"No, Potter, I haven't," she said, catching the bit of jealousy in his voice as he said the last bit. "And you can call me Black so long as we're here, you know," she added, just to see if it would make him uncomfortable.

"I prefer O'Bailey," he said stiffly.

"I'm sure you do, Potter," she said in a somewhat sing-song voice. "Now, do you know where me Da is?"

Potter seemed ready to rip into her, but her dad must have talked to him, because he merely pointed and said, "Up two floor and to your right is his room. There's a sign on the door."

She studied him for moment.

"Thanks," she finally said before turning to head upstairs. Before she got very far, however, Potter caught her wrist and pulled her back.

"Wait, O'Bailey," he said, looking nervous but determined at the same time. "I need to say something."

"Go on," Bailey said in a bored tone, leaning against the wall to express said boredom.

"I don't trust you," he said, acting as if it was a profound revelation. Bailey was wondering if he shouldn't be known at the Boy Drama Queen, rather than the Boy Who Lived.

_Ought to send that one into the Prophet_, she thought to herself.

"Really, Potter," she drawled sarcastically, drawing on every time she had been around Draco when he had done the same. "After four solid years of dislike, dare I say even hatred, and being each other's best friend's rival, you don't trust me? Wherever did I go wrong?"

Potter glared at her. "I wasn't finished.

"Oh, do go on. I so enjoy being told the obvious by one so famous!"

"I don't trust you," he repeated. "But you're Sirius's daughter, so you can't really be that bad, so I'm willing to give you a chance."

"You're really full of it, aren't you Potter?" she sneered, glaring at him. "As you said, Sirius is _my_ father, so you really don't get a say in anything that I do with him. You may be famous, but you don't get to dictate one aspect of my father's life, and certainly not mine, just because your parents are dead."

With that she turned to leave again, but, once again, the Boy Who Couldn't Hold Up his Head for the Size of his Ego stopped her.

"He's my godfather, O'Bailey," Potter said angrily. "He's all I got. And if something you or one of your nasty friend do gets him locked back up in Azkaban or even worse—"

Bailey sneered at him and yanked her arm away from his hand.

"Oh, go to hell Potter," she hissed. "And while you're at it—"

She then proceeded to tell him to do several things that would have had her mother washing out her mouth in a heartbeat. It seemed that Potter had not heard such things in pure Gryffindor, for he was gaping fit to catch flies by the time she turned and stormed up the stairs.

_Stupid Gryffindor twits._

**A/N (again)- Just so you know, even if there are no reviews, I will continue to update whenever I can, at least once a week. For right now, we are still on snow break, so updates are plentiful.**


	4. The Coming of Tilly

**A/N- Hey y'all, a new chappie, I'll be back with another next week! Please review!**

Just as Potter had said, upstairs two floors and to the right was a door that had a rather large nameplate that read "SIRIUS" in large letters. Across from the door, another room had simply the letters "RAB" on it. Bailey knocked on the door a few times before quietly opening it.

"Da?" she called as she peeped her head in. It seemed that her father was not in there at the moment, but it was far from unoccupied. A huge, grey hippogriff took up much of the far wall of the room. Its steely grey eyes seemed to be glaring at her. Remembering that fateful class in third year when Draco had been attacked, Bailey quickly bowed before the beast, looking it straight in the eye. It barely dipped its head down before beginning to groom itself with its beak, completely disinterested with her. Bailey took that as permission to venture further into her father's bedroom.

It was obvious that this was the room that her father had grown up in. Though the furniture itself seemed very sophisticated and posh (likely the set had cost more than her mother's farm), with its regal, dark wood and silvery gray bedding and hangings. Bailey was sure that her father's parents must have picked out the set. The rest of the décor showed that it was the domain of a teenaged boy. There were Gryffindor pennants and hangings everywhere, likely to annoy his family, along with a medal for having won the Quidditch Cup his seventh year. Where there wasn't Gryffindor paraphernalia, her young father had hung up pictures of motorcycles of all kinds, as well as a few pictures of old muscle cars. A few photos looked like they had come out of "Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition", or even a Victoria's Secret catalogue. Bailey crinkled her nose at those particular pictures.

"Classy, Da," she said to herself.

"What can I say, I was fifteen," her dad said behind her, causing her to jump. He tossed a chunk of meat to the hippogriff. "There you go, Buckbeak."

"Da!" she exclaimed, ignoring the niggling feeling that she had heard the name 'Buckbeak' before. "I had just come up here to—"

"Escape from all the Gryffindors downstairs? I used to do the same thing when my brother's Slytherin friends were over," he said with wry grin. "I guess I sorta blindsided you with this whole thing, didn't I?" he added a bit guiltily.

"Yeah, you sorta did," she replied. "In all the times we talked, mostly about my bloody bike, you couldn't have mentioned any of this to me?"

Her dad frowned, and she could tell that they were about to have one of their few serious (with an 'e') conversations.

"I don't want you to be anywhere near this war, Minnie," he said. "In a perfect world, then you would still be at Fleecewood with your Mum, and we would still be having conversations about the motorbike until I get my name cleared and could come home. We wouldn't have to talk about the war," he shook his head. "As it is, it looks like I'll have to train you to duel."

Before Bailey was able to explain to her father that not only did she know far more than just the basics of dueling and Defensive magic, but also quite a bit of what could be considered by the legalistic "Dark Magic", there was a knock at the door. Her dad had turned to open it just before Moony burst in, looking a little more disheveled than he usually did.

"That ex-wife of yours is a bloody menace!" he exclaimed, wagging a finger in her dad's face. Her dad just grinned wistfully.

"Yeah, she's always been that way…" he said in far too sappy a tone. Bailey felt like gagging at the lovesick expression on her father's face (okay, maybe she _did_ gag). Uncle Rem then rounded on her.

"And you!" he cried, pointing a finger in her face. "You couldn't have finished explaining everything that was going on before handing her over to me? She was in a full panic-attack!"

Bailey shrugged. "I figured that Mum would get less jail time for the murder of her ex-husband's best friend than the murder of her daughter."

Uncle Rem just glared at her.

"So… what, er… what did Tilly say?" her father said, fidgeting with his collar as though it was choking him. Bailey did her best not to laugh at her father's obvious nervousness. Uncle Rem winked at her, obviously picking up on and enjoying the same thing.

"She said that she needed to close up the farm, but that she'd be up here by Monday at the latest," he said lightly, before handing Bailey a duffel bag. "She also packed this for you until she can bring some more clothes when she comes.

Her dad seemed to have lost all color to his face. "M… Monday?" he choked out.

"At the latest," Uncle Rem added helpfully.

"But that's only three days from now!"

Bailey patted his shoulder, biting her tongue to prevent from laughing. "Don't worry, Da'," she said, barely able to contain a grin. "We'll get yeh looking like a real handsome bugger again and she'll… Well, she'll probably kick your arse first, and _then_ calm down enough to listen to reason. And probably kick your arse all over again for being so dumbarsed to begin with."

Her dad glared at her. "Thanks, Minnie," he growled. "That was very reassuring."

"Any time, Da, any time."

Sirius POV

Monday had finally arrived. Sirius had never felt so nervous before in his life—not at his Sorting, nor when he ran away, nor when he gave his best man's speech at James's wedding (though, that was probably because he was still hungover from the stag party night before), nor when he proposed to Tilly, nor even his own wedding (though, once again, his wasn't exactly sober from the stag arty the night before. He hadn't even been so nervous when Tilly had told him that she was pregnant with Minnie (he still couldn't get used to the idea of calling her Bailey), and he had actually passed out then. The thought of seeing her for the first time in fourteen years had him _wishing_ that he could pass out just so that he could avoid the whole day.

True to her word, Minnie had helped him get ready for the meeting, enforcing a strict diet and exercise plan over the weekend to, in her words, "get rid of the belly that you gained at pubs last year and get back the muscles that the dementors took". Sirius's darling little daughter was nearly as sweet (read: bitchily blunt) as her dear mother.

Minnie had also managed to keep Tilly's arrival off of Sirius's mind by getting into many, many arguments with her godbrother at least once daily and his friends (particularly Hermione) at least three times an hour. This behavior, however, did not seem to be so directed to helping him, even if it did tremendously.

Minnie and Harry (and grudgingly Hermione) had agreed to do their best to get along (or at least avoid each other) on the day of Tilly's arrival. Minnie had actually said that she would be on such good behavior that it would put heaven's best angels to shame.

Ha. As if any offspring of Sirius Black could put anyone other than Lucifer to shame.

Just as Sirius was about to give up on his bowtie (which Tilly had always o=loved on him) there was a knock on his door.

"Is it safe?" Minnie said, poking her head in the door while covering her eyes. Sirius smiled at her.

"Yeah, come on in, sweetheart," he told her.

As she walked in, Sirius felt a pang in his chest. He had missed so much of her growing up, even in just the past two years. He still remembered he as a small, bouncing toddler in a pink onesie, with blonde curls atop her head, begging for her "Bop", as she had called him then, to take her on another broom ride. Now, her hair had darkened and she was tall and was wearing what was in his opinion far too short of sundress (it reached to about her knees) and far too much makeup (it was only mascara and smuckers). She, to Sirius at least, looked extraordinarily like her mother, with the same freckles across her nose, and the dimples in her cheeks when she smiled.

"I actually fixed me hair today, cause that tends to put Mum in a better mood when it's not all frizzy and potion-y," she said, rolling her eyes. She pointed to his bowtie. "Want me to do that up for you?"

Sirius nodded, and his daughter took over the job, completing it in about two seconds flat. He looked in the mirror and saw that it was done to perfection. He could almost recognize the man that had been there before Azkaban.

"How did you know how to do that, anyways?" he asked in amazement.

She shrugged. "Bowties are cool," she said matter-of-factly. "Now, c'mon, Mum'll be here any second now!"

She started to pull Sirius out of the room with her, but he resisted, his legs suddenly refusing to work.

"C'mon, Da', we're wasting time!" Minnie said, rolling her eyes.

"I can't!"

"Yes you can," she said patronizingly. "We've gone over this a million times. You love Mum, she love non-mass-murderin' you, and I've done my damnedest to chase off every single date she has brought home for the past two years, and it was not an easy job. So, _c'mon_!"

"No, I physically can't move from this room," Sirius said again. "It's as if my feet have been glued to the floor."

Minnie rolled her eyes, again, (he wondered if he should tell her that her face would freeze that way) got behind him, and literally shoved Sirius out of the doorway.

"There, now, you've taken the first step, do I need to just shove you down the stairs as well?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. He could tell that his _darling_ daughter was trying to hold in her laughter. He sullenly muttered "no". She smirked, "Good, then. I don't want to rip one of my favorite dresses."

Sirius then began the longest trek of his life, even longer than the walk to his cell in Azkaban, down the stairs and to the parlor below. Minnie grinned at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. At that moment, Sirius found himself rather hating said mischief.

"There, now, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" Minnie joked, bumping his shoulder, the teasing lilt to her voice making her Irish accent and resemblance to her mother even stronger.

"Making fun of your ol' man when he is the most nervous that he has ever been in his entire life is not very nice, Minnie," he said in a warning voice, glaring at her. She scoffed.

"I am your daughter and a Slytherin besides. I don' exactly _do_ nice, Da," she told him, making an incredibly amount of sense. He missed the days when she couldn't talk or make fun of him. "Now, into the parlor!"

Sirius had never hated Floo powder more than when it flared up then to spit out his ex-wife and best friend. Even if he was feeling sick to his stomach, Minnie, at least, seemed extremely excited to see her mother.

"Mum!" she shouted, jumping on Tilly as soon as she was all the way through the fireplace. Tilly laughed—a sound that Sirius had thought that he would never hear again—and wrapped her daughter in a tight hug.

"Oh, Bails, I missed yeh so much!" she said. "Yeh can' even imagine how terrified I was when yeh called me Friday! Never do tha' teh me again, do yeh hear me?"

As Tilly pulled away from their daughter to study her for any injury, Sirius took the opportunity to properly look see the love of his life (despite the divorce) for the first time in over a decade.

She hadn't changed much at all in the past fourteen years. Sure, her figure had filled out a little more, her hair was a bit grayer, she even had a few laugh lines around her mouth and eyes (none of which he would never, ever say to her) but, overall, she was still _his_ Tilly, and had aged much better than he. She was freckled all over, with sandy blonde hair framing her face making her bluer than blue eyes pop, warmer than a summer's day…

"_Sirius_!"

Make that colder than an icicle.

In the Artic Circle.

Before global warming.

In January.


	5. Looking Like Family

**A/N: So here's the fifth chappie. Originally I was going to have the convo with Dumbledore in this one, but decided that would make it to long. So, unless we have another snow day tomorrow, I'll post that next week. Sorry if it seems choppy, I needed to get it moving and on the train to Hogwarts (Which will be Chapter 7) Enjoy and review! ;)**

"Ge' behind me, Bailey Ann," Tilly said, her eyes trained on Sirius as she shoved their daughter behind her.

"But, Mum—" Bailey began, resisting her mother's protectiveness.

"I said _get behind me!_" Tilly screamed, half in fear, half in anger, shoving their daughter out of the way violently and holding up her fists, like a mother lion protecting her cubs. Sirius briefly wondered if it was normal that he was finding his ex-wife incredibly sexy at that moment in time, or if he needed to seek psychiatric help.

Remus stepped between the two, hand held up in surrender. "Now, Tilly, before you go crazy, just give Sirius a moment to—"

Tilly rounded on him, looking fit to kill. "Don't you dare talk to me right now, Remus John Lupin!" she screamed, fear evident in her eyes. Bailey was trying to get up off the ground without her mother noticing, but was not doing a good job of it. Sirius decided that it might be time to step in.

"Tills," he said in what he hoped was a low, calming voice as he took a step forward. "Please, if you ever loved me, listen to me for a moment." She backed up, shoving Bailey (who had been able to achieve a standing position) back with her. "I—"

"Not a step further, Black!" she roared. "I know what you did! I may not have magic, but I do have a brain!"

"No you don't!" Bailey finally shouted, spinning her mother around to look her in the eyes.

"Bailey, you know very well that your mother has a brain—"

"Shut up, Da'," she growled, ignoring her father's half-hearted attempt at humor. "Mum, what you think he did, he didn't actually do! And if you won't listen to him, then I doubt that you do actually have a brain!"

Sirius had to admire his daughter's nerve. She really ought to have been in Gryffindor.

Tilly looked at her daughter concernedly. "Bails, I didn't want to believe it either, but he killed—"

"No he didn'!" Bailey shouted. "Tha' was Peter Pettigrew! Da's innocent! Don' ge' me wrong, Da' bollucksed things up pretty good fourteen years ago, bu' he didn' kill no body! He's innocent! He wouldn't of joined the Dark Lord then, and he sure as hell won't now!"

Tilly shook her head sadly, frowning at their daughter. "I tried to tell meself tha' too, Bails," she said softly. "But, the fact remains—"

Sirius couldn't take it anymore. He wanted his wife—_No, _ex_-wife,_ he reminded himself viciously—to look at him the same as she had fifteen years ago. He hadn't escaped Azkaban only to never be able to win her back. He spun her back around to face him, hands firmly on her shoulders so she could not look away.

"Look me in the eyes, Tills," he said softly so that only she could hear. "I swear on us, on our daughter, that I am innocent."

Tilly, physically unable to look anywhere else, looked him straight in the eyes, as he had asked her to. Those blue eyes he had loved so much were still wide with fear and anger and hurt. But, as Sirius watched, the ice melted away into something more akin to belief. Sirius did his best to keep his face neutral, not wanting to scare her away. But, his eyes told the tale. It was something they had perfected in their early romance, after Tilly had heard all the tales of his womanizing ways in Hogwarts.

"You're telling the truth," she said softly, as if it were an eighth wonder of the world.

"Yes, love," he replied, grinning slightly.

And just like that, after nearly a decade and a half of separation, Tilly was pressed flush against Sirius, lips tight against his. He wrapped his arms around her, vowing never to let her go. He was only dimly aware of Remus (what a good friend he was0 escorting a protesting Bailey out of the parlor as Tilly nestled her fingers into his hair.

"Well, that was unexpected," he joked when she broke away for air. Her hair was mussed and her lip gloss was somewhat smeared across her face. "I figured I'd get punched or kicked by you at least once."

"Don' be too sure tha' I won' later," she growled, though the effect was ruined by her leaning into his chest. "Yeh've been out fer two years, obviously met with our dau'er multiple times, along with Remus, and yeh din't thin' of comin' an' talkin' with me before all of tha'?"

"I also met with Harry and gave Bailey the motorbike," he muttered, figuring that he should give Tilly all the reasons for her to be angry with him before she found out on her own. It was likely better to just get it over with. She pushed away from him.

And then she punched him.

"Ow!" he grunted as she resumed her position leaning into his chest. But, despite his slightly throbbing arm, his smile was still in place and was not likely to leave for quite a while.

Bailey POV

"I can't hear anything!" Bailey whispered to Potter, who had quickly joined her at the keyhole to listen in on Sirius and Tilly's reunion. "You don't think she's killed him, do you?" she asked, with not a little bit of fear coloring the tone of her voice.

"Isn't she a Muggle?" Potter said skeptically. "I'm sure that Sirius can handle her."

"She married a _Marauder_, Potter," Bailey replied. "Me Mum's nothing to be trifled with when she's angry, magic or no. And Da's pissed her off good and proper by now, I'm sure."

She put her ear back up to the door. There was still only silence, besides the Super Sensory Charm she had secretly cast on herself as soon as Uncle Rem had dragged her out of the parlor.

"Damn, why can't I hear any bloody thing?"

"Good, my Silencing Charm is holding up. It's been a while since I've used one," a voice said from behind them. Potter and Bailey turned around in unison. Uncle Rem was smirking at the odd pair.

"Uncle Rem! Why would you do something so—so—"

"Responsible? Considerate?" he finished for her. "Your Mum and Dad have a lot to catch up on and deserve some privacy to do so. So, c'mon, let's go have some tea and biscuits. That should calm you down," he said jovially.

"But what if she kills him?" Bailey exclaimed, feeling way beyond tea and biscuits at the moment. She had, of course, hoped for her parents to be reunited, but had never dared dream it would actually happen. Potter, for his part, seemed content to go and have tea with Remus while his godparents sorted things out.

_Wanker,_ Bailey thought derisively.

Uncle Rem sighed. "Don't worry, Minnie, she doesn't have any weapons on her, I checked," he said placatingly.

"She has her bare hands!"

Uncle Rem rolled his eyes at that, and Bailey knew in the back of her mind that he was truly annoyed now. "Bailey, you saw her snogging the daylights out of him, just the same as I did. She still loves the man, Merlin help her. And, besides, she just manicured her nails, so it would be doubly irrational for her to kill the man she loves with her bare hands at the present moment."

"Me mum can be a highly irrational woman at times!"

"Must be an inheritable trait," Potter muttered just loud enough for Bailey to hear, even without the Super Sensory Charm that had done her no good at all.

"Oh, and you are really one to talk, Potter!" she snarled. "Last time I checked, you were the King of Irrational!"

"And what proof do you have of that, O'Bailey? The Prophet? Because that is just a rag of lies!"

"Have you _been_ to Hogwarts since your Sorting? A mountain troll? The Philosopher's Stone? The baskilisk? The Tri-Wizard Tournament? Puh-_lease_, Potter. Only an idiot would have done any of those things, even as a full-grown wizard! So, I wonder what that makes you?"

Potter seemed to have puffed up like a bull-frog. "I was trying to keep Voldemort from coming back!" Bailey flinched at the use of the name. "Only I forget—you were probably gunning for his return all along, weren't you? You're so irrational that you can't even stand the use of your soon-to-be master's name!"

"Well, even if that were true, at least I'm not so irrational to run into every dangerous situation I see headfirst! The more dangerous, the faster I run!"

"Well, you're so irrational that—"

Remus slowed rubbed his face with both hands, not even attempting to stop the argument between his best friends's children. He had finally come to terms that they would ultimately be the cause of his insanity.

After her Mum's arrival at 12 Grimmauld Place, Bailey's summer passed rather quickly. She, her parents, and Potter were often found together, behaving like an actual family, which gave Ron Weasley no end of grief, though the Weasel-ette had often commented how "cute" it was. Whenever Uncle Rem was there she would practice the potions Professor Snape had assigned her (and maybe a little more often than that as well). Often times, Granger would come in to watch her work while she did extra credit assignments, frowning every time that Bailey would tweak the recipe from how it was listed in the book. Bailey was extremely proud of herself for refraining from squirting butober pus all over her rival when the girl would do this.

She and Potter had come to a tentative truce, as neither wanted to sacrifice time spent with Sirius and Tilly to argue. Well, that and neither wanted to face Tilly's wrath for constantly bickering. Not to say that they _didn't_ argue, but it was to a lesser degree than when Bailey had first arrived.

Though Bailey had been concerned that she would be constantly arguing with the Gryffindors, and even some with her Mum, she had never thought that she would be arguing with her father of all people, least of all to convince him to go somewhere that her mother had already said she could.

"The concert is in _London_!" she had shouted after her father had asked her why she was wearing a Weird Sisters' t-shirt, launching the entire argument. "I won't even have to leave the city!"

"I don't care if it's next door, you are not leaving this house!" he had shouted back. She then turned to her mum, who had been reading a book on the couch.

"Mum, tell him—"

"Nope! _He_ gets to be the bad cop until you graduate. Bad enough that I had to potty train you on my own," she said in far too happy a tone before turning back to her book.

Bailey's father looked far too smug, though Bailey wasn't sure if it was because of the potty training thing, or the fact that her mother had given him complete power to not let her go and do anything fun until she had left Hogwarts in nearly another three years.

"You can't not let me go, Da'," she said. "Dray got backstage VIP passes! We get to go and hang out with the band. This is once in a lifetime!"

"I don't care how 'Very Important' that pass might make you—you still wouldn't be safe going!"

"Da," she began in her most convincing tone. "It's going to be in a huge, public setting with plenty of security. No Death Eater will even dare show their face. It would be suicide!"

"Firstly, so was the World Cup," he said, putting up a finger, "and secondly, even if there was no Death Eater danger, I still wouldn't let you go!" he finished, holding up a second finger.

"Why not?" Bailey demanded, hands on her hips.

"Have you _seen_ what you're wearing? There is no way in _hell_ that I'd let my daughter go out like that!"

Bailey rolled her eyes. Of course she'd have to get the over-protective father type. She thought that she looked rather cute in her tight band t-shirt, denim mini-skirt, and black leather boots. It was, after all, traditional rock concert gear.

"I look cute in this outfit," she told her father. He looked about ready to blow a gasket at that response.

"That wouldn't be the word going through some sleaze ball teenage boy's mind," he muttered.

"Oh, good grief!" she shouted. "Could you be any more clishe?"

"Why, yes, yes I could!" he shouted back, then pointed to the stairs. "GO TO YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW, YOUNG LADY!

Bailey threw her arms up into the air, and marched out, doing her best to look like a typical teenager throwing a fit, even going so far as to toss herself dramatically on her bed. After dinner, Weasel-ette and Granger had snuck into the room, and promptly decided to leave her alone, seeing her pretend to sleep, and then told her father to do he same. As soon as everyone was asleep, however, Bailey quietly walked over to the window, opened it, and shimmied down it, finding her bike parked in the backyard.

She pushed the motorbike out onto the street before starting it, flying it as quickly as she could to the Leaky Cauldron, running to get into Diagon Alley where the concert was. The Alley was crowded, but it only took a few moments of searching to find her friends.

"There you are!" Amelia exclaimed. "We were worried that you wouldn't be able to make it!"

"You think I would miss this?" she replied. "It's gonna be awesome!"

And it was. Even if the lead singer, Myron Wagtail, hadn't hit on her, it was still the best night of her life. It was even worth the enormous row that she and her father had the next morning over breakfast, that Tilly had eventually broken up by telling Sirius that had he not snuck out as a child, they would never have met, as well as warning Bailey that if she ever did that to Tilly herself that there would be hell to pay.

But, not even that row could hold a candle to the one that was coming when Dumbledore made his request.


	6. Dumbledore's Deal

**A/N: Pop quiz: Does anyone know what a Portkey is?... What about foreshadowing?... I won't even tell you what a Horcrux is, you'll find out soon enough! **

**(10 points to whoever knows that reference. LOL)**

**Without further ado, here's the next chapter!**

Bailey had decided that the library was her favorite room in the house. Not only did it house an enormous number of books, but it was also quite lacking in Gryffindors. All of the books in there were very interesting, offering Bailey insight into the upper-class world of wizards. Granger, of course, refused to touch any of them, as many pertained to blood purity and magic of the Darkest variety. Bailey was fascinated. What kind of people made these horrific curses? How did they even invent them? She thirsted to know.

So, during an Order meeting (which, Bailey had come to figure out, was always about some mysterious thing in the Ministry and her father and Snape trying to one-up one another) she settled herself down with a cup of tea, a few biscuits, and a book about a nasty piece of work called a "Horcrux". The author of the book was demented, and the entire idea and ritual was rather horrifying, but she couldn't help but read more. She knew that she was missing something, about why someone would choose to pay the price for immortality with their humanity, especially when it wasn't even foolproof. Bailey decided that the creator of a horcrux would have to be insane.

Halfway through the description of the grisly ritual to make one such object, the door open and Bailey quickly replaced the Dark text with an old copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard. _

"Go away, Weasel," she drawled. "I was here—oh, hullo, Da'."

Her father took the armchair across from her's. "You and I both know that you weren't reading fairy tales when I walked in," he said, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged.

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't do for the Gryffindors to catch me reading something else and come with some half-baked idea as to why," she replied.

"And, why, exactly, were you reading: _The Darkest Art_?"

"Knowledge is power."

"Uh-huh," he grumbled. "I don't like you spending so much time in here, Minnie. Merlin only knows what kind of books my mother kept."

"Oh, honestly, Da', it's not as if I'd use any of this stuff," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Well, maybe a few of the glamors… and some of those hexes could be twea—" she broke off when she noticed the glare her father was giving her. "Look, Da, I just don't like the other Slytherins thinking me a stupid Mudblood country bumpkin when I don't know the spell they just used. Besides, I'm a Prefect now. It's best to know what kind of magic my fellows are performing, and their counters, in order to know how many points to take."

"Speaking of which, I wanted to ask a favor," her father said. "About your House."

"Da', I'm a fifth year Prefect, I am not re-Sorting," she sighed, flipping through the pages of the storybook.

"No, no, not that," he said, "however much I may wish…"

"Da-aa," she warned, glaring at him.

"Alright, alright," her father said. "As you may recall, many Death Eaters are Slytherin Alumn."

"Many, but not all," she said, eyeing him warily.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved her off. "The Order knows that Voldemort is recruiting heavily. What we don't know is if he is doing it inside the school. We are flying blind on how much influence he has over the Hogwarts population. We need someone trustworthy on the inside to keep us aware. We need—"

"Are you asking me to spy?" she asked, shocked. _He can't be serious._

"Well… something along those lines, sweetheart," he said, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

"Bloody hell no!" she shouted. "They're me mates, they're like family to me! Besides, what happened to keeping me out of this war?"

"Minnie, you've got to see that this is all bigger than that."

"Are you asking Potter to keep watch over Gryffindor?" she sneered. "I assumed not. Slytherin innit got the monopoly of nasty bastards joining the Death Eaters, Da."

"No, but they tend to be some of the worst," her father replied.

"Oh, of course. Slytherins are all a bunch of Dark wizards, who turn on each other at the slightest provocation," she said. "You're wrong, Da'. We take care of each other. We don't get each other tossed into Azkaban. Unlike you Gryffindors."

"Oh, and just what is that supposed to mean?" her father said, crossing his arms.

"Have you seen old Wormtail lately?"

He opened and shut his mouth a few times. Then, he finally pointed at the door. "Upstairs. Your room. Now, Minerva."

She gaped at him. "You've got to be joking," she said. "You can't do that!"

"I am your father, so yes I can!" he shouted angrily.

"My father?" she spat. "I didn't even know your bloody name until I was thirteen years old! Because _you_ didn't want me to!"

Her father began to say something, but Bailey interrupted him with a blow that she knew she would regret later, but, at the moment, she couldn't find it in her to even care.

"Remember what I said when I first met you? Uncle Rem is still far more my father than you can ever hope to be!"

And then she fled.

Sirius POV

"'ere 'e is, Headmaster," Sirius heard his wife? ex-wife? call. "Siri, why are yeh sittin' in 'ere all by yerself?"

Before he said anything, Dumbledore walked into the room. "Ah, Sirius, my boy," he said happily. Sirius still had his head buried in his hands. "Teenaged hormones not treating you kindly, I presume?"

Tilly was looking at him in concern, obviously knowing how sharp that their daughters words could be. He shook his head at her, not wanting her to worry.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster," he said. " I tried to convince her, but she wouldn't listen. I'm afraid of losing her if I push to hard."

Tilly pursed her lips. "I told yeh she would no' be 'appy 'bout tha'!" she exclaimed. "She's jus' as stubborn as her Da', she is! Won' listen to no one!"

"She's too wrapped up with those friends of her's," he said. "Merlin only knows what kinda influence they'll have on her. Neither of you think… that she'll… y'know?"

"Y'know, wha'?" Tilly asked, eyes flashing dangerously.

Dumbledore sighed. "Sirius, do you think you would be asking what I believe you are asking if she were a Gryffindor?"

Sirius shook his head numbly. "No, of course not, Albus. But—"

"But, wha'?" Tilly growled. "Yeh think tha' me daughter would become a Death Eater? Damn, bu' there's why I left the Wizardin' World behind! None of yeh can see past prejudices, from lookin' down on a Squib, to yer stupid Houses!"

Sirius flushed, but did not back down. "You haven't seen what she's been reading, Tilly!" he shouted, picking up the book he had caught Bailey with earlier. "And you don't realize the kind of people she's been hanging around! Snape! And the Blackwoods! And the Malfoy scion! You just don't get it!"

"I understand perfectly well, Black," she hissed. "Bein' a Squib may impeded my magic, bu' not my mental capacity."

And then she, too, stormed out of the room. Sirius sighed, realizing that he had managed to chase away two of the people he cared most for in the world. He turned to Albus.

"Sorry you had to see that, Headmaster," he said sullenly. "I just… worry about Minnie sometimes."

"Only time will tell what will become of her, Sirius," the wizened wizard said. "But, I do believe the light far outweighs the darkness in your daughter. She is far too much like her parents to stay in Tom's command, even if she were to stray."

Sirius wilted. "So, you think she would become a Death Eater."

Dumbledore peered at his former student over his half-moon spectacles. "Don't worry about tomorrow, Sirius. Be the good father that we all—including she—knows you to be and she won't stray. Not so long as she has you to support her."

Bailey POV

Bailey was curled into herself sitting on the roof. The roof had become almost a sacred place for her, where she no longer felt like a prisoner in her ancestoral home. It was a warm night, but rather windy. If she had unfolded herself, she likely would have been blown away.

"Good evening, Ms. Black," a voice said next to her. She looked over to see her Headmaster, Dumbledore.

_Oh, great._

Bailey had never liked Dumbledore. It had all started when he had practically handed the House Cup over to the Gryffindors in first year, even though Slytherin had won it (mostly) fair and square. The feeling had continued throughout the years, as she was Petrified and mad a laughing stock in her House in second year. Then, ever since she had found out the truth behind her parentage in third year, she had suspected that Dumbledore had known about her father's innocence a long time before then. In short, she rather hated the man.

"How are you doing this fine evening?" he continued.

"Just dandy, sir!" she said sarcastically. "Lemme guess, you are the reason my father asked me to spy on my friends?"

Dumbledore's silence was answer enough.

"So I was right? How about another, then?" she said. "You're up to try and take a stab at it yourself."

He was still silent.

"Two for two!" she exclaimed. "Now, let's see, Da' thinks I'm a Death Eater now, dunnit he?"

Silence.

"Well, as I'm on a roll, here's one I've been dyin' to ask for years," she continued. "You knew that me father was innocent fourteen years ago, didn't yeh?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Your father is worried, Ms. Black," he said. "He only wants you to do what is right."

"An', wha' exactly is right, Headmaster? Takin' yer orders?" she growled, her accent growing thicker in anger. "Even if it means betraying me friends? Alright then, yeh wanna know how much influence the Dark Lord has in Slytherin? I'll tell yeh—a helluva lot. Me mates are scared fer their _lives_, Dumbledore. Most aren't joinin' up willingly. They've got enough shite goin' on—I ain't gonna be addin' to it by reportin' 'em to be carted off to Azkaban!"

"I wouldn't want you to," Dumbledore said smoothly. "I realize that many of your Houseates are in… less than ideal situations."

"Oh, don't sugar coat it, old man!" she hissed, not fearing retribution as they were in _her_ house, not school. "You know squat! If yeh realized half of what was going on, or even cared to, things wouldn't be so bad! I've nursed one o' me best friends back to health abou' five times since second year from the beatin's his father is given him! Me o'er mate is so scared of livin' with her parents that's she's in her brother's house! And everyone knows what kind o' woman Madame Zabini is! An' tha's barely scratchin' the surface of Slytherin House! Bu' you do nothin'!"

Dumbledore bowed his head. "Ms. Black, I know that I have failed far too many of the students in my care in the past. I would hope that you could come to see it as an old man's blunder."

"Like hell," she growled.

"Please, child, I am not asking you to spy on your fellow Slytherins as if they are criminals that might be carted to Azkaban," he said. "I merely wish to know what they do. Perhaps I'd even be able to aid them better if I had someone I could trust telling me who was in trouble."

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, figuring Dumbledore was trying to manipulate her. "That's what you say. If I am to spy on my Housemates, I would expect some sort of payment. I am no Gryffindor who betrays his friends for the greater good. So, if I do this, what will you do for me?"

"The satisfaction of a job well done is not enough?" Dumbledore asked lightly. Bailey glared at him. "Very well. Name your price. Galleons? Good marks? Head Girlship?"

She snorted. "I can get all those on my own, Dumbledore," she said. "No, I want you to protect my mother and father, like you should have years ago. I won't have my father dying in this war. That means no more pilfering missions. No more Padfoot excursions. He has to stay within Headquarters. He is to be put in no more danger until the war is over and his name cleared. Twelve years in Azkaban is enough sacrifice to your so-called noble cause, Dumbledore."

"How do you know that his name won't be cleared first?"

She laughed. "Because Wormy is always under the protection of a Death Eater's child. As far as I know, Theodore Nott has him now. And I can't get to him; there's some sort of anti-Black charm around his cage. And your reputation is shot to hell, so you can't even call in any favors."

Dumbledore nodded. "So, do you take the job?"

"Will anyone but actual Death Eaters, with the Mark, go to Azkaban?"

"No, child."

"Will me Mum and Da' stay safe?"

"Yes, of course."

I stuck out a hand. "Then we have a deal, sir."

**A/N (again): Question: Would y'all like a little more at Headquarters next chapter? Or would you prefer to get back to Hogwarts? I already have the train and first day of classes already written, though I do have a few ideas about some more Grimmauld Place shenanagins, but I'm not sure if I should get things moving on. So, it's up to you. Thanks for reading and please review ;)**


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